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Conciencia

Julia Garduno

As a kid I loved when my mother would braid my hair before school

I would walk in tall and proud

Feeling like a fresh new dollar bill

But at some point my mind played tricks on me

You see

It became uncool to walk around school with braids on your head It became uncool to speak spanish

It became uncool not to kiss boys

It became uncool to be a beaner

It became uncool to love the culture you grew up with

I would run to the school bathroom as fast as I could, covering my hair with a hoodie of shame,

And untwisted my braids as fast as I could before anyone could see me The real me

Those braids were created by my mother’s strong hands Each section of the braid untwisting my culture Untwisting my ancestors

Untwisting mis raizes and where they came from Deceived by the wave of mainstream media Deceived by pop culture

Deceived by my insecurities that are now called virtues

I was an uncultured prick like the rest of the kids

You see, I did not care if I hurt my mom when I came home with my hair tucked neatly behind my ears

The brown eyes of milk and honey

Stereotypes growing and overpowering who I really am

A Chicana

A Latina

A leader not a follower

The long tail that no one can step on

Because I am quick-tongued to defend myself

And with every Latino generation born in the land of the free we break the cycle of oppression

Call me by my real name Julia without the American accent Let each syllable sink in

The cycle of oppression that was once held tightly in between your fists has now soften Too soft

The cycle of mija calladita te miras mas bonita

translated to…

Mija, you look way more beautiful when you are quiet

Silenced….

El silencio llama The silence calls

But is no longer heard in between my braids

I decipher your thoughts of prejudice and sexism I no longer care for

I am no longer searching for mainstream but the upstream

Into the altar of the sun and moon

The cradle in which my body lays, a maca in my abuelos house, rocking back and forth as I slumber in the heat

The sweat dripping down my neck as I drink my tio’s famous licuado, que cura el calor en el verano

I am braided into existence, la fuente de amor y cultura De la tierra madre

Conciencia